


Can't Even Think

by KrisStylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Louis, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Face-Fucking, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Riding, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, mentions of Zayn/Perrie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 14:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3653205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrisStylinson/pseuds/KrisStylinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Maybe he’s onto something.” Zayn squints his eyes at the ceiling then looks at Harry. “Interrupted you and Lou, didn’t I?”</i>
</p><p> </p><p> <i>“Yeah,” Harry nods, drawing soothing circles on Zayn’s calf. “I was gonna fuck him,” he says bluntly, because intoxicated Harry probably laughed a little too much, but he was also flat honest.</i></p><p>A desolate Zayn shows up on Louis and Harry's doorstep searching for comfort and they're more than willing to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Even Think

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before all of the recent drama, and it's being posted before it escalates any further because otherwise this will never see the light of day. It's all basically porn with a (very) vague hint of plot, so if you're looking for some story, I suggest turning back now. ☺
> 
> Thank you to [De](http://iwillscreamuntilearsbleed.tumblr.com) for all of the encouragement and help in decision making (especially the title!), and to [Anna](http://annayolome.tumblr.com) for the kind and reassuring words! ♥
> 
> title from [2 On](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fc9g2tiJmvw) by Tinashe

“Maybe we need a break.”

 

The words hadn’t left Zayn’s mind since he’d heard them straight from Perrie’s mouth—not a representative’s or a reporter’s, but from _Perrie’s._ He supposes he should’ve seen it coming, though. Probably the second she texted him with a short, curt message: _We need to talk._ Talking had ensued lots of questions Zayn didn’t have answers for such as _Are you sure this is what you want? What’s best for both of us?_ and no answers meant no communication which Perrie had been arguing was a necessary component of a healthy long distance relationship since day one.

 

Thus a break was decided upon: Perrie would keep wearing her ring and Zayn was still engaged as far as technicalities went, but they were free to do as they pleased without the typical rules of engagement—essentially translating to a temporarily open relationship through all the gray areas. He’s sure it’s not healthy in the slightest, but it was what Perrie thought would work.

 

Part of Zayn was relieved, tiny weights lifting off of his shoulders as the seconds ticked by. Another part had them all crashing down on him again once he realized that what went for him went for Perrie, too. And it wasn’t that he thought she should be held to different standards, but thoughts of her with other people—romantically, sexually, intimately—flooded his mind and he’d always been the jealous type.

 

The jealousy distracted him enough to do what was the number one _don’t_ of someone coming straight out of a mutual _break_ : visit the most loved-up couple you know.

 

Louis answers the door with a long t-shirt covering his top half and blossoming hickeys from his jaw to his chest and disappearing underneath the material, which is kind of a bummer because Zayn had been hoping to share a blunt.

 

“Sorry,” Zayn murmured, shaking his head in an attempt to look nonchalant. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

 

It takes all of two seconds for Louis to invite him in. “You look like shit, and we don’t leave our mates on our doorstep looking like shit, okay? Not for anything, not even sex.”

 

Zayn didn’t have much fight left in him, so he plopped onto the couch as soon as he felt his knees hit the edge of it. “I’m just going to go get Harry, then we’ll all talk about whatever’s happened here and have a few pints.”

 

The promise of drinking makes Zayn relax enough to let Louis leave.

 

It’s quiet enough that he can hear bits of their conversation through the walls, enough to know that Harry was most definitely planning on continuing what they started as soon as Louis entered the room. Zayn could’ve been having sex right now if he wasn’t such an idiot.

 

It takes about two minutes (Zayn pathetically counted the seconds as a distraction) for Louis and Harry to return, and Zayn must look awful because Harry goes from looking a little annoyed to entirely sympathetic as soon as he sees him.

 

“Alright,” Louis says, lifting Zayn’s head up enough to sit down before laying it back down in his lap. “What’s happened?”

 

He recounts his talk with Perrie as much as he can without giving away too much. The moment Zayn finally mentions the “Maybe we need a break,” line is the same moment Louis gestures for Harry to go and grab a bottle.

 

“I should’ve groveled,” he mutters as Louis passes him another beer (it’s not Zayn’s favorite but he’s downing them in record time); it’s been a while since Zayn’s story has finished but he’s still dragging it out. “But I didn’t. I just—agreed. ‘Cause it was what she wanted, you know? And I figured I’d done enough so I didn’t say anything, and for a second I actually felt relieved and it’s just— _we’re_ just. Fucked.”

 

It’s quiet, and Zayn appreciates it; he needs someone to listen and let him get it all out before he even considers having any sort of coherent discussion about it and he’s glad his boys know that.

 

“’arry,” Louis begins, tapping Harry’s shoulder from where he’s positioned similar to Louis, except with Zayn’s legs resting on his thighs. “Any advice?”

 

Harry shrugs and smiles; he’s always rather giggly under the influence of practically anything. “Fucked. Fuck. Fucking.” He closes his eyes and grins. “Sounds nice.”

 

“That doesn’t help anything, H,” Louis scolds, but when Harry looks at him with dimples on full display, he’s just as charmed as Zayn is.

 

It gives Zayn an idea which he’ll probably regret tomorrow, but it’s not the stupidest thing he’s ever done intoxicated.

 

“Maybe he’s onto something.” Zayn squints his eyes at the ceiling then looks at Harry. “Interrupted you and Lou, didn’t I?”

 

“Yeah,” Harry nods, drawing soothing circles on Zayn’s calf. “I was gonna fuck him,” he says bluntly, because intoxicated Harry probably laughed a little too much, but he was also flat honest.

 

“Fuck him good,” Zayn says, and he’s unsure of whether it’s a question or a demand. He ignores it in favor of asking the question that will decide how the night goes, and if he’s rejected then he’ll go to sleep and call them tomorrow to blame it on the booze. “You guys still wanna do it?”

 

“So bad,” Harry answers without missing a beat. Zayn already knew that, though; with his legs draped over Harry’s lap, it was hard to miss the boner he’d been harboring since coming downstairs.

 

“Lou?” Zayn asks. Louis shifts enough to jostle Zayn’s head, and Zayn knows from one too many sexually frustrated interviews and nights spent getting high together that it’s something Louis does when he’s trying to hide that he’s turned on. Louis coughs. “Dunno. You sure you’re up for it, _Zayn_?”

 

Zayn laughs. “Open relationship,” he replies sourly. “Take advantage of it while I’m in a decent mood.”

 

“Then I think so, yeah,” Louis finally says, body seeming to loosen up as soon as the words are out. “Blame it on the alcohol.”

 

He starts to hum a few bars before he ends up making himself laugh. Zayn grumbles something about the jostling being too much to handle and moves to the vacant chair to their left, which is really just a way to give Harry and Louis the couch to both speed up the process and minimalize the number of awkward encounters this would ensue.

 

“Lou,” Harry slurs the word a bit and it sounds almost intentional. He crawls as well as he can until he’s beside of Louis, smashing their mouths together in a messy kiss that looks fairly unenjoyable from Zayn’s point of view, but they’re grinning through it like it’s the best they’ve ever had.

 

They make out for a bit, hands gently wandering into pants and underneath shirts. The realization that he’s going to just sit off to the side and watch two of his best mates have sex is slowly sinking in, but when Harry does something that makes Louis moan—an actual _moan_ —the entire mood shifts and Zayn’s too far in to even think of going back now.

 

Louis reaches for Harry’s shirt and tosses it over his head in a rush, which is a notable contrast from their sluggish movements like they had all the time in the world from before. It’s hot, though, so Zayn doesn’t do anything but try to cover the twitch of his cock before he realizes that Harry and Louis are too absorbed in each other to notice anyway.

 

Harry’s hands slip down the back of Louis’ pants for a grab at Louis’ arse and then he lifts him until he’s sliding into Harry’s lap. He’s groping Louis’ bum in a way that looks rough but Louis’ enjoying it, and Zayn is too because it gives him a nice glimpse of Louis’ arse every time Harry gets a bit too into it. Louis starts rocking forward, grinding against Harry’s cock with Harry’s mouth on his neck and his hands down his pants.

 

Zayn wonders when an appropriate time to get his cock out would be, and if it would even be appropriate to wank off to his friends fucking in the first place.

 

 _No point in you watching if you aren’t gonna get off to it,_ Zayn imagines Louis saying, and promptly starts palming himself.

 

He hears the sound of jeans being unzipped followed by Harry groaning right into Louis’ collarbone. He thinks of asking them to turn around so he can see, but Louis leans back and pulls Harry with him before he has the chance. His eyes immediately go to Harry’s crotch where the head of his cock is peaking out of his boxers.

 

Louis rubs the pad of his thumb slowly up and down the tip of Harry’s cock in tiny circles that have Harry panting. “More,” Harry breathes, grabbing Louis’ wrist and guiding his entire hand toward his dick. Louis grins like that’s what he’s been waiting for and wraps his hand around Harry’s cock.

 

Zayn is just—hard. Really hard.

 

He watches the way Louis strokes him: slow, rhythmic, until he decides to take him by surprise and pull a little quicker, rougher. Harry whimpers when he does that and Zayn can see why Louis did it if that’s the reward he gets.

 

“Lube,” Harry grunts. “We need lube.”

 

Louis presses his thumb up underneath the head of Harry’s cock before he drops him completely. He tilts his head back until he’s staring at the ceiling while Harry climbs from his place on top of him and heads toward their bedroom.

 

“This is usually where I get naked,” Louis mutters, turning his head to the side to make eye contact with Zayn—the first time either of them have acknowledged him since it all started. “You mind?”

 

It comes out sounding serious, but Zayn laughs anyway because it was ridiculous for Louis to be modest now when he was about to let Zayn watch him get fucked. Louis ignores him and stands up to strip himself down, flopping back onto the couch afterward as if this was normal. Zayn can see how hard he is now without the clothing in the way, cock curved enticingly up against his stomach. He keeps grazing his fingertips along the length of it, mouth open and eyes closed while he waits.

 

Harry walks back into the room stark naked with a bottle of lube in his hand, sights set directly on the couch where Louis is working himself up with his hand. He starts to take longer steps until he’s hovering over Louis’ body, waving the bottle of lube over him teasingly.

 

“C’mon. I’m dying,” Louis pouts, reaching up to grab Harry’s thigh and pull him down. Harry goes without a fight, slicking up two of his fingers straight away while he attaches his mouth to one of Louis’ nipples. Louis threads his hands in Harry’s hair and tugs a bit, and it’s embarrassingly visible to Zayn how it gets to Harry.

 

Harry reacts by sliding a finger into Louis, which causes Louis to pull Harry’s hair a little harder. Harry was holding himself up on his elbow, but after that he drops down slack against Louis and obstructs Zayn’s view. He’s upset with the change until Louis makes a noise that Zayn’s never heard him make before—a high-pitched, uninhibited whine. He squirms underneath Harry and it all makes him seem needy in a way Zayn doesn’t recognize. It’s hot, though, enough so that he finally pulls his cock out of his jeans.

 

Louis pulls Harry’s head up so they’re kissing, one leg wrapping around Harry’s waist as his hands grip onto Harry’s back. Harry uses one hand to hold onto Louis’ side and the other is sliding three fingers in and out of Louis’ hole.

 

Harry mutters something about _gonna fuck you now_ that has Louis nodding quickly and grabbing the discarded lube to slick Harry up. Once it’s done, Harry wastes no time in sliding into Louis. They go slowly for a second, to let Louis adjust no doubt—Zayn didn’t make it a habit to see Harry naked so much as Harry made a habit of being naked the majority of the time, and the boy is definitely not inadequate.

 

Zayn pulls on his cock steadily now, stopping every few seconds to squeeze at the base lest he get too excited and finish early. He watches them closely, the way Louis’ got a death grip on one of Harry’s hands and the grins they give each other, the small nod Louis gives him before Harry starts—oh.

 

Before Harry starts just— _pounding_ into him.

 

Zayn’s no stranger to rough sex, but this just looks primal. It looks like bare, uncontrollable lust and they look so _needy_ for each other, like the pace they’re going at still isn’t enough and Zayn gets it, in a way. Almost.

 

Louis is loud, he learns. Harry can’t seem to stop moaning and groaning every five seconds, whereas Louis’ noises are seldom but he’s louder than anyone Zayn’s ever heard. He quickens his hand subconsciously.

 

“Wanna,” Louis begins, and the sound startles Zayn because he’s been hearing nothing but moans for the past ten minutes. “Wanna ride you now.”

 

Harry sits up before Zayn can fully process it—Louis wants to ride Harry, which means Zayn’s going to get a perfect view of where they’re connected, be able to see Harry sliding in and out of Louis’ arse and. It’s just too much to think about.

 

Harry looks in Zayn’s direction for a second before leaning down to Louis’ ear and whispering something Zayn can’t hear. Louis tilts his head enough to make eye contact with Zayn before his eyes slip shut in a way that’s blatantly pornographic. He goes slack against Harry’s chest with a whimper, his only movements coming from his hips. And Zayn, he’s pretty focused on the big picture here, but he’s too curious to just let it go.

 

“What’d you say to him?” he inquires. Harry stares blankly at him for a second over Louis’ shoulder and Zayn wonders if there’s some line he’s crossed by making conversation while he’s balls deep but Harry speaks up before he can dwell on it too long.

 

“Lou,” Harry addresses the older boy, “want to tell him?”

 

It sounds like the type of question that doesn’t require an answer. Louis takes a deep breath to calm himself because it’s clear Harry isn’t going to stop thrusting up into him and let him speak. “He asked me,” he starts, head buried against Harry’s chest, “if I’d like it if you were fucking me too.”

 

Zayn has to stop his hand completely to keep from blowing his load right that second, but Harry doesn’t seem to take pity on him. “And?”

 

“And—” Louis swallows, and it actually sounds like he’s blushing, “—and if I thought my little hole could take it.”

 

It’s obvious Louis’ having a hard time getting the words out, whether because of Harry’s relentless pace even with Louis on top of him or the fact that he’s admitting to Zayn that they’re discussing having a threesome with him in the middle of sex, he doesn’t know.

 

“Is it getting you off?” Zayn pushes, mind foggy more from lust than booze at this point.

 

Louis finally starts bouncing on Harry’s cock in small, nearly imperceptible movements when he answers him shyly. “It is.”

 

Zayn doesn’t know what the next step is now, if he’s supposed to keep using his hand or go join Harry inside of Louis. The boundaries he thought were set keep being pushed and he doesn’t know if that’s too far or not far enough.

 

“You want Zayn to come over and fuck you, babe?” Harry asks it loud enough for Zayn to hear this time. “Want to have us both inside of you?”

 

He’s snuck the lube back into his hand as he’s spoken, applying it to three of his fingers as Louis nods against him. Harry kisses the side of his head. “Ask him.”

 

Louis shakes his head. “Harry—can’t. I’ll come.”

 

“That’s okay,” Harry coddles him. “You can come, just need to ask Zayn if he wants it, too.”

 

There’s a pause where you can hear nothing but the sound of skin on skin before Louis speaks up. “Zayn.” Zayn’s relieved that Louis can’t look at him because it sounds like this is hard enough for him without making eye contact. “Would you. Do you want to—?”

 

“Yeah,” Zayn answers quickly, deciding to put Louis out of his misery. “I want to.”

 

Harry mutters something in Louis’ ear again, and Louis’ response is a nod. Harry’s finger makes its way to Louis’ entrance, feeling around the skin until he slides the tip of it inside. It makes Louis shiver and grunt for a minute until he settles down into Harry’s embrace. Harry runs the fingertips of his free hand down his spine. “Pretty when you come.”

 

 _Oh._ Part of Zayn is worried that it’s over before he could get to the good part; he knows his hand won’t be satisfying now that he knows what he could’ve had. Harry doesn’t make any move to stop, however; he just keeps moving his finger in and out of Louis right beside his cock.

 

Once he’s worked Louis up to two fingers, it doesn’t take very long for him to have three, four working inside of him. “Move, babe,” he presses, guiding Louis back and forth with a hand on his hip until he starts moving on his own.

 

Zayn sits off awkwardly to the side; does he just walk over and jump right into it or is there some sort of rule about how long you wait until you fuck your best friend in the middle of a threesome? As if Harry can sense his train of thought, he speaks up. “C’mon.”

 

Zayn removes his jeans and boxers completely before standing up, and then sheds his t-shirt so they’re all equally naked. He starts toward the pair, cock in hand and ready to be lubed up as soon as possible so he can just get _inside_ already.

 

“Louis,” Harry says, “what if you turn around on my cock, yeah? Let Zayn look at you while he’s fucking you.”

 

Louis turns around without any hesitation, careful to keep Harry’s cock inside of him as he does. He leans back against Harry’s chest, looking directly at Zayn and the sight kills him—this is by far the least Louis (or at least the Louis _Zayn_ knows) he’s looked all night. His hair’s sticking to his forehead with sweat, face pink and his pupils blown. The weirdest thing is the way he’s rock hard despite having come minutes ago, like this is what he likes, what gets him off like nothing else. It makes him think back to all the times Louis has hinted at how much he needs someone’s attention, and the way Harry’s so immersed in him now makes him think they’re as perfect of a match as humanly possible.

 

“Please,” Louis whispers, sounding so genuine that it almost hurts.

 

Zayn slicks himself up slowly, careful to make sure he’s covered because taking two dicks ( _both_ of them _at once_ —it’s still hard to wrap his head around) can’t be very comfortable, especially without proper prep. Louis is practically gagging for it by the time he’s done so he gives them both what they want and presses his tip against Louis’ rim.

 

Louis shouts once the head finally pops in, but Harry’s there to calm him down and hold his hand through it. Zayn pushes forward gently until he feeds a bit more of his cock into Louis but a longer, louder scream makes him stop. He looks questioningly at Harry—maybe this _was_ too much and Zayn should just stop now, but Harry shakes his head and gestures for him to keep going. As much as Zayn is afraid of hurting Louis, Harry knows this version of Louis much better than he does so he does as he’s told.

 

He moves forward until he’s got half of his cock buried inside of his best mate and _god_ , it’s one of the most pleasurable things Zayn’s ever felt. That coupled with the small _uh, uh, uh_ ’s falling from Louis’ lips is driving Zayn more and more insane by the second.

 

“You can kiss him,” Harry mutters offhandedly. He doesn’t directly address Louis or himself but Zayn supposes it doesn’t really matter.

 

He bends forward until he’s got his mouth on Louis’, the angle awkward from their position but they make it work. Louis wraps his hands around Zayn’s neck and full-on snogs him senseless and, well. Louis is a really good kisser.

 

Zayn starts thrusting somewhere in the middle of it, determined to keep some control over the situation. Louis starts to squirm from all of the attention, which makes Harry groan and wrap an arm around Louis’ torso, pulling him back enough to be able to nibble on Louis’ ear lobe.  

 

Even though it’s happening, Zayn’s having a hard time realizing that this is _actually_ real.

 

“How does it feel?” Harry asks, hand gripping Louis’ cock and tugging gently.

 

Louis looks so out of it that Zayn is sure he won’t be able to respond, but he surprises him by opening his mouth. “Big,” he begins breathlessly, “full. Deep.” Every word makes Zayn’s cock twitch inside of him.

 

“Good?” Harry presses. Louis swallows and nods. “So good.”

 

Harry stops pulling at Louis’ cock, putting his hands on Louis’ sides and rubbing up and down. “You close again already?”

 

Louis whines—he looks like he could start crying at any second now—and nods again. “Do you want to come?” Louis’ entire body shakes with a silent sob, placing his hands on top of Harry’s and squeezing. “Please.”

 

He looks and sounds so enticing in that moment Zayn can’t help but start fucking him faster, pace brutal. Louis directs his pleas to the both of them after that, broken whimpers of, “Don’t stop, Zayn, please,” and “Touch me, Harry,” coming out one after the other seemingly out of Louis’ control. He keeps drawing back into Harry and curving up into Zayn like he doesn’t know where his body wants to be more.

 

And maybe it’s not even that, maybe it’s just his way of drawing attention. Zayn finally gets what’s so appealing about this for him—while it could be a factor, it’s not the fact that it’s him that’s getting Louis so worked up, but the way he’s got all eyes on him.

 

“Fuck,” Zayn mutters. He starts touching Louis all over: his cock, his stomach, his nipples. Louis curls up into it and mumbles about how he’s going to come, come _soon._ Harry wraps his hand around his cock again and jerks him quickly. Only a few whine-filled seconds pass before he’s coming all over himself.

 

He doesn’t stop murmuring nonsense throughout his orgasm, and Zayn isn’t sure what’s said; he’s more transfixed on watching the come leak out of Louis’ cock and onto his stomach.

 

“I’m—I,” Zayn stutters, not sure how to tell them he’s going to come, that watching Louis ride out his orgasm was able to push him over himself.

 

Harry nods at him; he probably knows the effect this Louis can have on someone better than anyone else. “Come on him, he likes that.”

 

Zayn pulls out carefully but quickly, coming when he hears the discontent noise Louis makes at the loss. Stripes of come land in the dip of Louis’ stomach along with the aftermath of Louis’ orgasm.

 

He lifts his head up, thinking _now what_ but Louis is busy staring at his stomach where Zayn just came on him. Harry seems to be doing his best to slide Louis’ limp body off of him; when he succeeds, Zayn notices that he’s _still_ hard. It doesn’t make sense—

 

—until he’s got Louis on his back and his cock pressed against his lips.

 

“Open,” he says gently, cupping Louis’ cheek in his hand as his mouth parts enough for Harry to slip his cock inside.

 

Zayn is frozen on the spot, intrigued by the scene before him. Harry rubs his thumb over Louis’ cheek where the skin is protruding from his cock. It’s sweet in an odd way.

 

Harry starts moving his hips forward in minute thrusts, only half of his cock fitting into Louis’ mouth at a time. “Making me feel good, Lou,” Harry mutters in praise. Louis stares at him for a second before he’s grabbing Harry’s hip and urging him forward. Harry raises an eyebrow. “You need to be able to speak tomorrow.”

 

Louis clenches his eyes closed and Zayn can see a little water falling from the corner. God, he wants it _so_ much; Zayn’s cock threatens to get hard again at the sight.

 

“Fine,” Harry relents after a minute. He fits both of his hands on either side of Louis’ head and holds it, gently pushing the rest of his cock into Louis’ mouth. Louis relaxes and doesn’t hold his eye lids together so tightly anymore. He looks satisfied.

 

Harry gives in and fucks himself down Louis’ throat, mouth falling open as pleasure racks through him. Louis seems to lay there and take it, whatever Harry has to offer. Zayn respects Harry in that moment—if the roles had been reversed, he wouldn’t have lasted two seconds with the way Louis looks right now. But he supposes that Harry sees this enough for it not to be a surprise anymore.

 

Judging by the way Harry seizes up and comes a second later, he also thinks that doesn’t stop it from being so effective.

 

Harry pulls out of his mouth after he starts coming, his spunk splattering across Louis’ cheekbones, his chin, the corner of his lips. Louis slumps into the couch and stays completely still save for his tongue peeking out to lick tentatively at the come covering his face. Harry swipes his thumb through the mess he made and slides the digit right into Louis’ waiting mouth; Louis hollows his cheeks around it and sucks harder than before. Harry grins down at him in a way that’s too sappy for the aftermath of a blow job.

 

As the sex high begins to fade, Zayn starts to feel like he’s actually intruding by the way they’re looking at each other, touching each other, kissing each other. He thinks of dressing himself and slipping out the door, but he doesn’t think that’s appropriate, nor does he really have anywhere else he’d feel comfortable staying at after all of the night’s events.

 

“…don’t wanna have sex with him then make him stay on the couch. That has to be against the code of moral conduct after threesome’s with your best friend or something.”

 

“Asking him to sleep in our bed with us is less awkward for you?”

 

“It is, _Harold._ And he’s been through a lot tonight, yeah? I think what you’re really worried about is waking up with your morning boner poking into the wrong person’s back.”

 

He could remind them that he’s still in the room with perfectly fine hearing, but he doesn’t want to interrupt them (meaning he’d rather them make the decision of what to do tonight for him). It only takes a few more moments of giggles and coaxing on Louis’ part to have Harry walking over to him and offering him a place on their bed. Zayn’s too drained to do anything but agree.

 

Zayn slips on his boxers before going upstairs; Louis puts on his own once they’re in the room and Harry surprises no one by going in the nude. When they reach the bed, Louis stands back to allow Harry to crawl in the middle. Harry glares at him until Louis laughs and slips in himself. Zayn, having gotten in the bed as soon as he could, stares at the ceiling through it all, stopping only when Louis turns his back to him and politely asks to be spooned. “I’ve never had the opportunity to be both the big and little spoon at the same time, and I think we’ve crossed enough boundaries tonight for this to not be weird. C’mon.”

 

Harry curls up into Louis’ embrace while Louis does the same to Zayn. Louis’ right; it isn’t weird, it’s comforting in its own way. Louis tilts his head to look at Zayn over his shoulder. “Love you, okay? As much as I can without making Harry jealous.”

 

Harry rolls his eyes and Louis’ following yelp makes Zayn think he’s pinched him. “I love you, too. As much as Louis loves to pretend he’s more than four feet tall.”

 

Zayn grins when he hears Louis suck in breath like he always does when he’s getting ready for an argument and interrupts him before he can. “Love you guys, too. Thank you.”

 

He falls asleep knowing that at the very least, he’ll wake up tomorrow feeling okay.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading as always, and I hope everyone finds something to smile about through this mess. ♥
> 
> ♡ tumblr: [zourry](http://zourry.tumblr.com) ♡


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